


i’m no maid marian and you’re no robin hood

by LazyBaker



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Medieval, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-01 12:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18334817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyBaker/pseuds/LazyBaker
Summary: Billy snaps his fingers and says, “Prince Harrington, prettier than any princess in all the kingdoms.”





	i’m no maid marian and you’re no robin hood

 

When Steve spots the bandits he tells Dustin to hide.

He only has his dagger, his sword lost to the mercenaries they’d finally managed to lose. He’s never been to war like his dad and any battle he _has_ fought had been with his teacher or Tommy, but Steve will do his best to give Dustin a chance to survive.

There are five of them. Big men, bigger than Steve by at the least double. Grimy. Mean faced. Black rags. Antlers on their heads. Axes and swords already raised. There will be no talking with them.

When Steve braces himself, gets the proper grip on his dagger, shifts his footing right as though he was holding his sword, the men begin to laugh. Steve, in only his undershirt and breeches, is not exactly intimidating without his armor, he can admit that, but it rankles all the same.

Steve is about to die.

His parents are gone. His kingdom is gone. His title is _gone_. Steve has lost everything. The only silver lining in these last moments are at least he will die protecting a friend. _It’s a good death_ , Steve thinks, better than he thought he’d ever have.

Prince Steve Harrington with the honor of dying in battle? His dad would have keeled over from the shock.

“As the rightful king of these lands, I order you to halt.” Steve says the words his dad would use and the tone his teacher had used on him countless times during training, but these kinds of men aren’t loyal to the kingdom or anyone, just themselves.

An arrow shoots through the biggest of the men—the leader’s head. His eyes go crossed and then he falls and one by one each of the bandits crumple from an arrow to the head, the chest, the neck. The accuracy and speed of each arrow chills Steve’s blood.

Steve stills, doesn’t move an inch, doesn’t breathe. Frantically, he looks up at the birchwood trees the forest is named for, searching for the archer who did this, waiting for the arrow that will be coming for him. If he runs, he may be shot in the back. If stays where he is—

Once upon a time Steve had always been lucky. He’d always gotten what he wanted. The spoiled heir to the throne. If only he’d known all 18 years of fortune were just to make the fall that much worse, that much more painful.

A man jumps down and lands in the middle of the corpses. Steve sees only the back of him. Golden curls shining in the spotted summer sunlight. Broad shoulders under his bow. Dressed in midnight blue.

When he turns—blue eyes that sting and unsettle something in Steve.

He’s the same age as Steve, younger even.

The man pulls out a sword and jabs at the biggest of the bandits, mouth twisting into a scowl, then turns on his heel and points his sword at Steve, not to fight, but to emphasize.

“That’s why you don’t fuck with another man’s sister. She may be a raging bitch, but she’s family and all.”

Steve nods, taken aback by the man’s good humor.

The man smiles. _Handsome_ , Steve thinks, wary and tired of being wary. He hopes Dustin plays it smart and stays hidden.

“You, you’re not with them.”

“No.” Steve says.

The man sheathes his sword, comes closer and Steve, still with his princely pride, refuses to back away. The man walks with a swagger, still wearing that grin on his face.

The man stops feet away from Steve. He bows his head in the slightest nod.

“Billy’s the name. Billy the Bold. Billy the Brave.” He flicks his long curls back over his shoulder, then bats his eyelashes at Steve. “Billy the Beautiful.”

Everything about him rubs Steve the wrong way.

“Well.” Steve starts, unsure how to exit out of this, unused to being saved. “Thanks? I guess I’ll be on my way?”

“Now, hold on.” Billy says and comes closer and Steve does take a step back then and then another and another as Billy matches him, foot by foot. “It’s not all that often I rescue anyone, especially a man as nice to look at as you.”

Steve stiffens. “I didn’t _need_ rescuing.”

“ _Sure._ Didn’t mean to offend or anything.” Billy cocks his head, his long curls spill over his shoulder. He has a piercing in his ear, a raven feather. “I know you.”

Steve turns his face away. “You don’t.”

“I _think_ I do.”

“I _know_ you don’t.” Steve shrugs. Laughs lightly. “I’m no one.”

“I know what a _no one_ looks like and you are _definitely_ not a _no one_.”

“Like.” Steve laughs _again_. Panic has been his default for the last two days and he keeps finding out there is always _more_ of it. “You’re _definitely_ wrong. I just have one of those faces.”

Steve’s back hits a tree. His dagger is still in his hand, pointed out, still on the offense, but Billy merely uses his fingertip to nudge it away so he can lean in close, hand bracing him above Steve’s head on the bark.

Steve should probably stab him. There won’t be another time he has this kind of opening. If the wrong person knows he’s alive—all of this will be for nothing.

Billy studies him and slowly his grin turns into half-lidded eyes and soft, red lips upturned into a silk smile Steve has only ever seen from whores in brothels looking for a new patron to entertain.

"The way you stand, how you hold yourself, that dagger." Billy snaps his fingers and says, “ _Prince Harrington, prettier than any princess in all the kingdoms._ ”

A dumb saying born from his early childhood years that has followed him around since.

Billy cups Steve’s cheek, thumb brushing along his bottom lip in a firm, hot press.

The way Billy, this handsome man who had saved him as easily as breathing, look at him. Steve flushes. Pulse quickening and his hold on his dagger tightening. Billy’s eyes darken to the depths of the sea and Steve, hysterically and having clearly lost his mind, wants to drown.

Billy moves in closer, his breath is _hot_ and Steve’s clenched up, his hands shaking by his side, dangerously close to dropping his dagger and losing his one defense.

But Billy’s lips are soft when they press to Steve’s, warmly and sweetly—chaste and Steve has not kissed anyone since the last time Princess Nancy had visited. That had been in spring and so many, horrible, awful things had happened since.

Steve places one hand on Billy’s—strong, firm, very manly—chest and melts against the trunk of the tree when Billy’s tongue touches his. Billy’s arms keep him from falling. The kiss nearly knocks his feet out from under him, so he clutches with his one hand and for one blessed moment forgets the pain that has buried itself inside him.

But then Billy pulls back a breath and Steve opens his eyes to see he had closed them.

“Then there’s the other half of the saying,” Billy says against his lips, “ _but not a single thought in his gorgeous head and kind of a dick._ ” Billy’s hand moves to grip the back of Steve’s neck. “Honestly, I prefer the pretty dumb ones.”

And that—that snaps Steve out of this lulled in stupor. He slaps Billy’s cheek.

Billy _laughs_.

“I’m not some—some—” Steve spits out.

“—Maybe not. You’re a very good kisser though.” Billy says airily, “I’ve never kissed a prince before.”

“Will you stop talking. God.” Steve’s entire body burns, mortified. _If Dustin had seen._

 _Weak_ , his dear dead dad tells him in his head.

“Sorry about your whole,” Billy twirls his finger in the air, “kingdom.”

“Shut your damn mouth.”

Billy, still laughing, turns his back to Steve and walks back to the bandit corpses, plucks out the arrows, tosses the ones he can’t salvage. From the largest of the bandits Billy pulls a small, silver dagger from his cloak and pockets it.

“You were the Pretty Prince and now you’re just the Pretty Boy.” Billy sings, clutches at his chest, leans on his heels. He gives Steve a look. “Brings a tear to my eye.”

“Are you done? Got it all out of your system? I’m leaving. Thanks for the help. Don’t follow me.”

Steve turns and begins to walk fast away from bandits and Billy and the whole damn forest, heads for the direction he told Dustin to hide in. He’s a fool. He’s always been a fool. His parents had been right. _His parents._

But Billy the Bold is not done with him. Soon, Billy is walking alongside him, their feet crunching the same grass and twigs.

“So, where’s the former-prince headed?”

Steve stops, not willing to give Billy the chance of meeting Dustin.

“Somewhere else.”

“Sounds fun.”

“It’s not.”

“Anywhere you go is fun, pretty boy.”

Steve grits his teeth. “Don’t call me _boy_.”

“Well, I can’t call you _prince_.”

“Then call me _nothing_ , Billy the Annoying Asshole Who Won’t Shut Up and Take the Hint No One Wants to Talk to Him.”

“A little bit of a mouthful, but I’ve never let that intimidate me before—" Steve goes dragon fire warm all over, he cannot believe this man, "—I’ll work it in somehow.”

Steve’s head is going to explode. This man with his grin and his precision with his bow and his words— _his lips_ —Steve grabs him by the front of his cloak.

“I get it. You don’t care about the Harringtons falling and you’re getting off on messing with me—I fucking get it, now will you fuck off already and leave me alone.” Steve’s voice breaks horribly at the end, so he shoves Billy away harder, more mean and resentful than he can stand.

Billy doesn’t stumble or look at all put off. His grin is brighter, more brazen than before. _The sun_ , Steve thinks. This man burns hot and will likely pull Steve into his fire if he isn’t careful.

And now Steve can _only_ be careful. There can be no more missteps if he wants to reclaim his kingdom.

Billy points in the direction Steve had been walking.

“If you keep heading that way, you’ll run into Demogorgon territory. And if you head east—you know what lies in the east for Harringtons.” Billy says. He adjusts the sheath of his sword, serious for a moment. “The only way out is through these woods.”

Steve knows this. There is only the woods for him to get to his allies in the north and the woods have more of a chance at killing him and Dustin than the bandits did.

“I know that.” Steve says.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say your sword got caught up in the drama and you only have that dagger. A little knife like that ain’t gonna protect much.”

“Drama?” Steve says, lost. “My family was killed.”

“Welcome to the commoners club.” Billy says then swings his arm around Steve’s shoulder and when Steve shrugs him off, Billy’s hand smooths down his back to rest on the dip of his spine.

Steve warms at the touch, the comfort it brings, and balks at the suggestion, settles on _confused_. He really needs to sleep, to strategize—he regrets how little he paid attention during his lessons. He’s always been so _stupid_ , so caught up in matters that simply didn’t matter.

Tired, Steve says, “don’t you have a sister to return to?”

“She’d probably just as much prefer I didn’t.”

“I can understand that.”

A few yards away, the bushes rustle and a small head of curly hair jumps out wielding a whittling knife.

“Let go of him you demon!” Dustin yells and charges towards Billy. Steve stops him, catching him by his middle.

Steve grips him by the shoulders. “I told you to hide, this is not hiding.”

“But.” Dustin looks to Steve then Billy then Steve again. “He could’ve hurt you. You _can’t_ get hurt.”

Steve sighs. Ruffles Dustin’s hair.

Billy has a hand on the handle of his sword, eyeing Dustin.

“My squire, Dustin.” Steve explains, giving in. “Dustin, this is—“

“I’ve heard of you.” Dustin cuts him off. “Billy the Beast.”

Billy’s reaction is immediate—he closes off, that fire is quickly locked behind stone walls.

 _Billy the Beast_ , Steve has no idea.

“A kid. You have a _brat_ with you.” Billy scoffs. He bends down to snarl in Dustin’s face, “if you call me _that_ again, I’ll beat your little snot-nosed face in.”

“And then I’ll beat your fat nose in.” Steve tells him.

Billy switches too swiftly and smoothly from angry to smiling sweetly up at Steve. “Ouch, Your Highness.”

“I don’t like the idea of _him_ coming with us.” Dustin whispers loudly behind his hand. “He’s not questing material, Steve.”

“We don’t really have a choice, the woods are dangerous and I really, _really_ hate to admit it, but, he’s right.” Steve glances at Billy and his bright eyes. “Two knives aren’t going to get us to the north and besides—so far he’s been sort of helpful.”

“Sort of? Killing the bandits after your hide is more than fucking _sort of_.”

Steve rolls his eyes. This is going to be a _very_ long journey.

Turning to Billy, Steve returns to the comfort of courtly manners. Polite and distant. “It’s a lot to ask—I won’t have anything to pay you with until we reclaim the castle and, honestly, the supplies we have are running low as it is and we’ll all probably die.”

“A prince being indebted to me is kinda hot, so.” Billy says. “Also, pep talks are not your thing.”

Steve closes his eyes. Counts to ten. Focuses on the bigger picture—saving his people from their captors and regaining his birthright. Billy is small potatoes. He isn’t even a potato.

“So you know a way through the woods?”

“Damn right I do.”

“You’d—“ it’s a terrible idea, but it’s not the worst idea and Steve cannot go through the worst again, “—you would be our guide?”

Billy hums, stalls. Steve can feel Dustin running out of patience. Steve’s head _throbs_.

Billy finally says, “if you say please, _maybe_.”

Steve has to look away, rub at his face. He takes a deep breath before he thinks of talking to Billy the Obnoxious again.

“Please.” Steve barely says through clenched teeth. The glare he sends Billy is as useless as he thought it would be.

“No need to beg, pretty boy, I’m all yours.” Billy grins. Claps Steve on the back, his hand stays there warming the spot between his shoulders before Dustin slaps Billy’s hand away and they begin to argue.

Definitely a very, very, _very_ long journey.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://granpappy-winchester.tumblr.com)


End file.
